


To Win A Warlock's Heart

by VermillionWarrior



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Arthur Pendragon is a Hopeless Romantic, Caring Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Dragon Merlin (Merlin), Falling In Love, Idiots in Love, M/M, Magic, Magic Revealed, Magical Realism, Merlin is a Little Shit, POV Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), POV Merlin (Merlin), Possible smut, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Protective Merlin, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Shapeshifting, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, The Once And Future Kings, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:48:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26923870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VermillionWarrior/pseuds/VermillionWarrior
Summary: "You really are a pain in my side you know that," Arthur said but there was no real heat behind the words. Merlin sat proudly on the table, peacocking his newly healed wings and he thrilled smugly as if saying "I know but I'm going to keeping doing it to annoy you".Arthur sighed, shaking his head with a small smile on his face. Merlin and him had an odd relationship but no matter how obnoxious the dragon became he couldn't bring himself to wipe the carefree expression from his face. "Alright then," Arthur said standing up. He walked over to Merlin and held out his arm. The dragon jumped on to the limb and clumsily climbed up the fabric of his overcoat. He sat down on Arthur's shoulder and lovingly nuzzled the side of his head.Arthur pushed him away but not enough to knock him off his shoulder. Merlin let out a playful cry and fell off his perch. Arthur, on instinct, reached out to grab him but he flipped in the air, beating his wings in a hover. His pointed teeth were on display in a dragonic smile.orArthur finds and cares for a wounded dragon which turns out to be a warlock in disguise, but the prince doesn't know that.~ON HIATUS~
Relationships: Knights of the Round Table & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 66
Kudos: 380





	1. We Meet At Last

“Prepare yourselves,” Arthur shouted to the rest of the knights, “We’re almost there, and remember these bandits are armed and trained. Do not underestimate them.” 

For the past few weeks, the outer roads had been terrorized by a group of Mercia knights turned rogues. They had been dancing between Camelot’s and their former kingdom’s borders so neither could so much as lay a finger on them before the group crossed over into the other’s territory. 

Fortunately, one of the fallen knights couldn’t bear his actions and came before Uther in forgiveness and seeking sanctuary from Mercia. In return, he gave them the location of the group’s more permanent campsites. Arthur had wanted to set out right away to end the bandits but Uther had caught wind of a sorcerer doing magic in the lower town. Arthur had reluctantly spent three days searching for the sorcerer only to find a frightened family of three, and soon after, two sobbing faces of mother and son as the father was marched towards the castle.

They pulled their horses to a stop at the top of the hill and dismounted. Arthur motioned them to follow him into the woods and they easily fell into formation as they had done many times before. Leon came up beside Arthur and tapped his shoulder, pointing west. Arthur nodded understanding the message and led the rest of the knight through the thick underbrush. 

It wasn’t long before they came to the camp. It was well-picked and easily defendable. Arthur spotted two guards to his left patrolling and more near the center of the camp. He watched as the bandits pushed two people into one of the three tents in the clearing. Another took something Arthur couldn’t see from his angle but whatever it was the man was struggling to hold it. _A child?_ he thought. The bandit took the squirming being into the main tent. 

Arthur opened and closed his hand, signaling to the others there were two to three hostages. With the new knowledge, the knights broke off to surround the encampment and Arthur went around towards the main tent with one other knight and waited. 

Once he was sure everyone was in place he yelled, “Attack!”

The knights sprung on the surprised bandits and they scrambled to defend themselves. The knights easily cut them down and fought with skilled precision. Arthur stabbed one through the stomach and swung his sword out towards another bandit, pushing them back. The rest of the battle was a blur of red and blue. Arthur was used to this, the calm yet rapid change of battle, and the clash of metal was familiar to him as the morning sunrise. 

Somehow Arthur ended up in the main tent and the sounds of fighting had slowed to a halt. Arthur looked around and saw a dead bandit had fallen through the ripped fabric of the tent. Arthur sheathed his sword and walked over to the body. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw the familiar face of the bandits’ leader. Without their leader, any survivors would flee Camelot or end up being caught within the week. 

He looked out and saw Gwiane and Percival were helping the couple he’d seen early out of their bindings. They were thanking the knights and Percival, bashful as ever, was blushing while Gwaine was taking the praise with pride. 

“Gggrrhh!”

Arthur pulled out his sword and spun around towards the sound. The groan had come from behind a pile of stolen crates but whoever had made the sound was hidden. Arthur could make out a blob-like shadow on the tent wall, it wasn’t moving. 

“Ggrrrhhh,” the sound came again. Arthur, holding the sword out in front of him, stepped away from the ripped tent and walked towards the crates. 

He stealthily walked around the wooden boxes, careful of fallen debris, and froze. 

Laying out on top of one of the crates was a dragon. Its sides were bruised and it was bleeding from several cuts on its wings and legs. It was covered in dirt and mud which probably wasn’t helping with the pain of its injuries. Its breath was labored and its eyes were screed shut.

Until Arthur’s sword brushed against the crate causing it to creak. 

The dragon’s eyes snapped open and locked with Arthur’s. Arthur gasped at the golden flecks among the ocean hue of their iris and marveled at how a creature could have such human-like eyes (if you take away the split pupils). The dragon’s eyes were full of pain and sorrow Arthur felt a twinge of pity for the creature. He stepped forward and the dragon broke their eye contact to look at the sword which was still between them. The look that crossed their face was so human and so full of fear Arthur almost dropped the weapon right there.

But then he remembered what this creature was, and what he was. Dragons were beings of magic and therefore dangerous and needed to be destroyed. Arthur raised his sword and the dragon’s fear shifted to Arthur. His grip on the sword flattered and his heart clutched. The dragon let out a struggling sound akin to whimper before bursting into a coughing fit that shook their fragile body. 

Arthur looked away for a moment as the urge to reach out for the dragon became too strong. _Why do I even want to help it?_ Arthur snapped in his mind. It was just another magical creature whose life Arthur took to protect Camelot. Its life was nothing compared to the lives of his people.

 _But this one’s different_ , a small voice in Arthur’s head told him and he forced it away, even if the words continued to weave into his every thought. 

The sword trembled in his grip as doubt consumed him. This had never happened before, so why now? Why now of all times with a small dragon?! 

In a split-second decision, Arthur sheathed his blade and took the two hesitant steps to the dragon’s side. 

The dragon looked like they were fighting to stay awake and their body was limp as Arthur lifted it. The dragon was barely bigger than his palm and its scales were smooth instead of the fabric-catching roughness Arthur excepted. It weighed little to nothing and Arthur wondered when the last time it’d eaten. A creature of its size probably only hunted small animals, nothing bigger than a squirrel. _Definitely not a human_ , Arthur’s subconscious whispered.

The dragon’s eyes were still trained on him but the fear had been replaced with a subtle curiosity. 

Arthur held the dragon in his hands for a few long moments, not knowing what to do, before a voice called for him outside and was followed shortly by fast-approaching footsteps. 

Arthur quickly slipped the dragon into a slit in his armor that was reserved for small daggers and the dragon let out a yelp at the ruff treatment. “Quiet!” Arthur whispered and the dragon replied with a dissatisfied rumble. 

“Arthur? Where- there you are,” Leon said and Arthur turned to face him, making sure his cape covered the suddenly filled pocket in his side. “I was just,” Arthur paused looking around for an excuse, and found the leader’s body again, “Checking to make sure he was dead, and he is.” Leon gave him an odd look but didn’t question the prince. 

“Only a few bandits got away and the few we captured had been bound,” Leon reported. 

“Good,” Arthur said and walked out of the tent with Leon. “They’ll face trial when we return to Camelot. How are the hostages?” He already knew the answer but he just wanted to be sure.

Leon walked in step beside Arthur as they walked back up the steep hill towards the main road. “They weren’t harmed besides being tied up and frightened out of their minds but I expect they won’t look too much back on this memory.” Arthur nodded, it was good to hear. 

“What about the child?” Leon asked genuinely, worried for the child he thought was injured. “Did you find them in the tent?”

Arthur stiffened and tried to keep his hand from flying to his pocket full of dragon. “There wasn’t a child in there. Just a wild ferret,” he said and he patted himself on the back for making the lie sound so convincing. There was still the sharp feeling of guilt stabbing into his gut when Leon didn’t question his words and silently followed him out of the forest.

The dragon squirmed in his pocket and its cold scales brushed against his skin. Arthur jumped and Elyan raised an eyebrow. “A little jumpy aren’t we?” he said and Arthur grumbled a “shut up” before swinging himself up into his saddle. The movement bounced the dragon and Arthur heard another yelp, tiny claws scraping for purchase on his chainmail. 

He smirked and nudged his horse into a light trot. The knights followed, dragging their captives behind them. 

The dragon’s weight swung side to side along his vulnerable skin and, for a reason Arthur couldn’t begin to fathom, the weight was comforting. The comfort slowly gave way to anxiety the close they got to Camelot and the weight of what he was doing came crashing down on him. Was he really going to smuggle a _dragon_ of all creatures into Camelot?

 _There’s no going back now_ , Arthur thought as he crossed the threshold into the courtyard and he heard the dragon give another rumble as if sensing the change in Arthur’s mood.

He handed his horse over to George and glanced over to see Elyan and Lancelot taking the prisoners to the dungeons. 

With the final reassurance that the bandits were taken care of, Arthur rushed into the castle and made it to his chambers to record time. 

He took off his cape and laid it down on the table. Next, he gingerly took out his side passenger and the dragon whimpered when Arthur accidentally brushed against its wounds. Alright then, first things first, he needed to take care of the cuts before they became infected.


	2. Helping The Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur treats the dragon's injuries

Arthur sent for a bucket of hot water and took a clean rag from a basket near the tub in the corner. He walked back over the dragon and winced at the state they were in. 

Their scales were red and irritated around the cuts and the bruising around their sides was making it hard for them to breathe. They watched Arthur as he darted around his room looking for anything to help the dragon. He knew he had some cream from Gaius that he used for sore muscles and a tonic for painkillers, which Arthur rarely used. 

Arthur put the two different bottles next to the dragon and they sniffed them curiously. The dragon sneezed and covered their snout with their tiny claws. Arthur chuckled. “Don’t like ‘em?” He asked and the dragon’s eyes darted frantically between Arthur and the bottles as if saying “ _What are they?_ ”

“It’s something to help with the pain,” Arthur said, and just then there was a knock on the door. 

The girl didn’t look at Arthur as he took the bucket of steaming water and Arthur thanked the girl, surprising himself. Why the heck was he thanking a servant girl? She worked for him, he owed her nothing. Maybe it was the fact he was hiding a magical dragon (Arthur was still in shock about this fact) and didn’t want anyone to think of him suspiciously.

The dragon let go of their snout to look at Arthur and they let out a choked trill when they saw the warm water. Arthur set the bucket down on the table, which was quickly becoming cluttered, and he had to grab a flying ball of blue scales as the dragon tried to jump in the bucket.

They screeched loudly and Arthur quickly clamped his fingers over their mouth, his eyes looking over to the doors to make sure the guards outside hadn’t heard the dragon. Luckily no one knocked on the door to see what happened.

Arthur turned back the dragon and matched their sneer with one of his own. “You need to be quiet,” Arthur said. “I’m risking my life just having you here so try to be a little more grateful.”

The dragon growled in response but didn’t argue. 

Arthur readjusted his grip on the dragon and noticed again just how small they were. They felt so fragile, like all it would take was one skilled blow to break every bone in their body. 

The dragon locked eyes with Arthur and growled. The message “ _put me down_ ” was clear enough but Arthur waited a moment before complying, simply out of spite. He wouldn’t submit to a magical creature now or ever, injured or not.

“I’m going to clean your wounds now. No whining or whimpering or I’ll make you do it on your own,” Arthur threatened.

The dragon didn’t seem all that impressed. 

Arthur grabbed the rag and dipped it in the bucket. The dragon watched him as he rang it out and stretched out their wing for Arthur to clean first. 

Clumps of dirt and forestry fell away, revealing more of the dragon’s blue scales as well as long jagged cuts, possibly from a dagger of some kind, a sword would have torn the limb right off. There were stab wounds too, that pierced all the way through the skin between the wing bones. Arthur didn’t know how long it would take for them to heal. 

Soon the water in the bucket turned cold and clouded with dirt. Arthur threw the rag in the water with a sense of finality and rolled his shoulders back. His shoulder joints popped in resentment for the armor he forgot to take off in his rush to help the dragon.

The dragon looked over Arthur’s work skeptically before nodding, satisfied. 

Arthur rolled his eyes and, walking over to the bath, he grabbed another rag from the basket. On his way back to the dragon he grabbed a bottle of leftover wine. The alcohol in the liquid would help to disinfect the cuts. 

Arthur switched out the bucket for the wine, setting the water on the floor, and grabbed the bottle of painkillers. Arthur uncorked it and held the liquid up to the dragon’s mouth. 

“Drink it,” Arthur ordered and they opened their mouth. Arthur gave them about a fourth of what he usually took, not wanting to drug them. The last thing he needed was a drunk dragon in his chambers.

They swallowed the painkiller without protest but scrunched up their face at the taste. They growled at the bottle, the small round-edged spikes on their back gently rose and reminded Arthur of a cat fluffing up its fur to make it look bigger. Arthur rolled his eyes at the dragon’s antics. “Stop your growling,” Arthur ordered, looking back over to the door briefly. 

The dragon stopped and turned his attention back to Arthur. 

Arthur didn’t meet their stare and instead focused on opening the wine bottle. The dragon’s undivided attention was unnerving. Like they were peeling away every layer of Arthur being, looking straight into his soul. Arthur stiffened and steel himself before turning back the creature. 

The dragon was just as stiff as he was but his piercing gaze softened so it wasn’t as scorching. Arthur still didn’t trust them, not by a long shot, and for all he knew maybe the dragon was using magic to influence Arthur into helping them. 

With that thought in mind, Arthur grabbed the dragon’s forearm and snapped a quick “This might sting” before pouring the wine on the cuts.

The dragon jerked against Arthur's grip and hissed, clamping down their jaw. 

“Oh suck it up, girly,” Arthur said. He assumed the dragon was a girl with her snapping behavior and nature to seek out help but apparently he was wrong. The dragon growled and spat at him, his spikes rising again in offense. 

“Sorry, dragon boy,” Arthur corrected and dropped the dragon’s arm, grabbing the other. The dragon glared at Arthur and hissed again as Arthur poured the wine. The hiss didn’t sound as painful as the last one and Arthur guessed the painkillers were finally kicking in. 

“Alright,” Arthur whispered and the dragon’s ears flicked dismissively. Arthur pretended to not notice the unspoken insult and continued, “I’m going to bandage you up and the painkillers should be working now so this shouldn’t hurt too much.”

The dragon trilled in confirmation and stretched out his forelegs to give Arthur better access. 

Arthur ripped the bath rag into strips. He didn’t have any spare bandages in his room and even if he did, getting rid of bloody bandages without anyone asking questions would be hard, even if he was the prince. Besides, the dragon’s inner magic was probably already healing him. Arthur would be able to have him out of Camelot within a week after he healed and they’d never see each other again. 

The dragon didn’t flinch as Arthur clumsily wrapped his forelegs and he snickered whenever Arthur missed a loop or fumbled with the cloth. “Shut up, dragon,” Arthur said but the dragon ignored him, mirth sparkling in his eyes. 

They continued like that with the dragon’s wings, tail, and back legs. The dragon wiggled as Arthur disinfected and wrapped his tail, his wings fluttered and his back spikes rose again making it harder for Arthur to wrap the limb. Arthur finally pinned him down with one of his hands earning him a barbed squeal. 

“Stay still and be quiet,” Arthur warned again but this time he wasn’t so lucky.

“Sir? Is everything alright?” someone outside called and both of them froze. 

Arthur didn’t recognize the voice as one of the guards so they must have been dismissed to other duties (Arthur still resented his father’s decision to have him protected. He could protect himself thank you very much). “Sir?” the voice came again and the dragon’s head cocked in the side curiously. 

For a horrifying second, Arthur thought the dragon was going to jump off the table to go to the person outside but instead his head moved in one fluid motion, flinging the edge of Arthur’s cape over him. The dragon’s shape was tiny and any person would write him off as a piece of amour. Arthur couldn’t help but be a little impressed with his actions, even if they were unnecessary. 

“Everything is fine,” Arthur said and the voice replied immediately, “Are you sure? I thought I heard an animal of some kind?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Arthur said harsher than he intended but it seemed to get the point across. 

“Okay then. Good night sir,” the voice said before fading into footsteps. Arthur only started to breathe again once he couldn’t hear them anymore. 

A soft chirping sounded behind him and Arthur saw the dragon slowly poking his head out, eyes scanning the room. 

“They’re gone,” Arthur stated and walked away from the dragon to unload his armor. Arthur could feel the dragon staring at him again and grumbled under his breath.

Didn’t this creature know anything about privacy or at the very least simple manners? Magical creatures despite their reputation for doing evil they had always seemed a sort of intelligence to them and whenever he saw two of their kind interacted (usually right before he and his knights ambushed them) there was always a sense of politeness and kinship. 

Arthur glared over his shoulder at the dragon and he averted his gaze, embarrassed for getting caught. _Serves him right_ , Arthur thought. He pulled his chainmail off and placed it near his nightstand with his breastplate and arm guards. George would have to clean them tomorrow before they rusted but Arthur couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Once the heavy metal was off Arthur wasted no time in taking off his sweat smelling undershirt and flopped down on his bed. All the tension bleeding out of him and he just laid there for a moment. Today had been the most stressful day of his life (excluding anything related to his father or the future of Camelot). The bandits were nothing new by Arthur’s standards but the dragon… the dragon was something else internally. 

“Ggrrmp?”

Arthur turned his head and saw the dragon standing at the edge of the table looking over at him with a hopeful expression. His wings shifted under the bandages and his head looked between Arthur, the bed, the floor, and back. Arthur recognized that look, the same look he’d seen on a lord’s dog after it mistakenly wandered into his chambers. 

“Oh no you don’t,” Arthur snapped. “You’re staying _t_ _here_. You are _not_ sleeping with me.”

The dragon ducked his head again in embarrassment and Arthur got the vague impression that he was blushing in a dragon sort of way. Regardless, he didn’t seem to have any life preservation instincts and crouched down, preparing to jump. 

“Don’t,” Arthur warned just before the dragon leaped off of the table and crashed onto the floor. 

“You idiot!” Arthur whisper-shouted, still painfully aware the walls of his room were not soundproof. The dragon let out a short wail and curled in on itself, clutching his damaged wings. 

“You complete and utter idiot, what were you thinking?!” Arthur scolded and reluctantly got up out of bed. 

He stomped over to the dragon and scooped him up. The dragon let out a sigh of relief and snuggled farther into Arthur’s hand. He didn’t get very far though before Arthur dumped him back on the table and he threw his cape over the creature for good measure. 

“Stay,” he said to the moving clump of fabric and walked back over to his bed. 

The dragon let out a distressed cry but Arthur ignored it, pulling the covers over his head to muffle the noises. 

The cry came again more urgently and Arthur ignored it once more. After that, the dragon stopped and the following period of silence was all the time Arthur’s body needed to fall into a restless sleep.


	3. Feather and Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur wakes up to a snoring dragon and debates his life choices once again.

Arthur could count on one hand how many times he’d woken up on his own and most of them were because of the stress that unfortunately came with being who Arthur was. This time though, Arthur was woken up by the gentle shining of the sun through the window and he was surprised to find George wasn’t in the room yet. Don’t get him wrong, George was a good servant but he was almost too good. Arthur had gotten annoyed, on more than one occasion, by the young man’s constant hovering when his services weren’t needed and the machinic-like way he followed Arthur’s orders without question. 

Arthur decided to relish this time and took his time waking up, slowly coming into full consciousness. 

However, a soft snoring broke Arthur’s peaceful awakening and all the events of yesterday came flooding back. With sleep-induced motions, he raised himself up on his elbows and glanced over at the table.

On top, right where Arthur had left him the night before, was the dragon curled up in his cape. Arthur listened closer and, to no surprise, realized the dragon’s snores weren’t snores at all but his lungs straining to breathe past the bruises. The painkiller had probably worn off by now and the bandages would most likely need replacing too.

Arthur groaned and fell back on his bed. That meant he was going to have to come up with some excuse so Gaius would give him more. Arthur almost never asked for medicine unless it was serious so the physician was bound to ask questions. Questions Arthur couldn’t- wouldn’t answer in good conscience. 

“Aamph!?” 

Arthur raised an eyebrow questioningly as the dragon raised himself up onto his unsteady limbs to look at him with sleepy blue eyes. 

The dragon made another chirping sound and flapped his wings, flinching as the painful reminder for his injuries shot through his wing. However, the pain didn’t seem to put a damper in his mood and he smiled at Arthur. The dragon, honest to god, smirked at him! 

Arthur was about to snap a barbed comment at him but then Arthur realized how ridiculous he must have looked, bed head and covered in dirt and sweat from the day before. He probably looked more like a peasant boy than the prince of Camelot. 

“Shut up,” he said to the dragon and he merely laughed at Arthur’s words as Arthur clambered out of bed. 

Arthur shot the dragon a glare and flung the cape over them again, earning him a surprised squeak as the dragon was concealed in darkness. 

Arthur was lucky enough to see someone nearby when he opened his door and he asked for them to send for a bath as well as George so the manservant could clean his armor. They bowed deeply before taking off to follow Arthur’s orders. 

When Arthur turned back to the dragon he couldn’t hold back the laugh that bubbled up in his throat. The dragon had somehow managed to flip himself off the table and was now hanging upside down in mid-air, tangled in red fabric. 

He struggled, squawking at Arthur to help him and Arthur lost it. Never in his life had he ever encountered a creature that had as bad of instincts as this creature did. The old stories of the dragons told of powerful graceful creatures of destruction and here, Arthur had one of those so-called creatures wrapped up in his cape like a cat in a ball of yarn. And not only that but he was calling out to Arthur for help who, mind you, was in fact his inherent _enemy_. It was just too insane to believe and yet it was happening.

Arthur stifled his laughter back down to a chuckle and crouched beside the dangling dragon. 

“How’s it hanging?” Arthur joked and the dragon growled low in his throat, swiping at Arthur with his claws, which he easily dodged. 

“Crhgm?!” The dragon cursed when his poor attempt at an attack only entangled him farther into the cape. “ _Merrr_!”

Arthur barked another laugh and reached out. He untucked a piece of cloth from a crack in the table, sending the dragon barreling onto the floor in a heap of red and blue. 

He glared up at Arthur from under the cape and Arthur smiled back smugly. The dragon bared his teeth and stood up, hissing in pain when he put weight on his front leg, the one Arthur vaguely remembered was the most damaged. Arthur could see the bandage had slipped and the wounds were bleeding again. 

Arthur grumbled and picked up the dragon. The dragon tumbled onto Arthur's outstretched hand and thrilled happily, tail winding around his thumb for support. Arthur looked away from him and tried not to focus on the dragon’s obvious affection (which still made no sense) as he walked over to his bed. 

The dragon looked around curiously, eyeing Arthur‘s bed, and chirped questioningly at a cabinet standing next to it. 

Normally Arthur didn’t touch the cabinet next to his bed unless he was going to a party or a formal meeting but he needed to look for any more painkillers. He used the last of it last night and the few drops left would only last an hour at most, not to mention Arthur still didn’t know if any of the dragon’s cuts were infected. He wasn’t the royal physician after all.

The dragon perched on the edge of the drawer as Arthur shifted through the miscellaneous objects. Bottles and rings clinked together and Arthur crushed under his breath when he didn’t find anything that would help the dragon recover. 

“ _Mrrpp_?”

Arthur ran a hand through his hair and tugged, the pain temporarily overriding the anxiety growing in his stomach. “You know, you’re quickly becoming more trouble than you’re worth.”

The dragon scoffed and pawed at Arthur's hand. Arthur reluctantly opened his fist for the dragon to climb on. 

“What even is your name anyway?” Arthur asked. “Or do dragons even have names?”

The dragon growled, the action vibrating through his whole body, and jumped off of Arthur's hand back onto the drawer. His nose and claws gingerly moved stuff out of the way and soon he let out a successful trill, pulling out a feather, firmly clamped between his jaws. 

Arthur raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. “A feather? That’s your name, Feather?” 

The dragon sighed, rolling his eyes, and wiggled the feather more adamantly. Arthur looked at it more closely. It was a blue feather with faint black lines going through it, Merlin’s feather. A fairly common bird of prey; Arthur had no idea how it related to the dragon. “Blue?” Arthur tried again. 

A snort.

“Bird?”

A growl.

“Merlin?”

“Thrmm!!” The dragon trilled enthusiastically and his wrapped wings struggled against his bandages in small flaps. 

“Merlin,” Arthur stated again to confirm, his tone more than a little unbelieving.

The dragon nodded and trilled again. 

Arthur threw up his hands in defeat, “Merlin it is then.”

Suddenly Arthur heard a knocking at the door and Merlin leaped off his perch, landing on the bed. Arthur didn’t have any time to get him off before the door opened to reveal the servant from before, George, and a couple of others. Merlin thankfully had enough sense to duck under the covers as they came into the room to fill up the bath with hot water so he wasn’t seen. 

Arthur gave George his armor to clean and shooed him out with the others after they filled his bath and locked the door behind them. His back connected with the door and he ran a hand down his face. George would most likely be back to clean his room and when he did Arthur needed a good spot to hide Merlin for the rest of the day. Why did there have to be a ban on magical creatures, if only the punishment for harboring them wasn’t death.

“Coo?”

Arthur looked over at Merlin who had gotten off the bed and was trotting over to him on wobbling legs. Arthur ruffled translated Merlin’s cooing to “ _what’s happening?_ ”

“I’m trying to figure out what I’m going to do with you when George comes back,” Arthur said, pushing himself off of the door. “You’re going to give me a headache at this rate. I hope you’re happy,” Arthur hissed. 

Merlin cocked his head to the side poorly concealing the smirk Arthur just knew he had on. Arthur sighed and started to strip, preparing for his bath. 

A choked shout echoed through Arthur's room and he looked back over his shoulder at Merlin. 

The dragon was turned away from Arthur now, his head firmly turned in the opposite direction, his wings covering his head, his back spikes flared out. Arthur narrowed his eyes before they widened in understanding. It never occurred to him that maybe creatures, or dragons, in this case, had any idea of what clothing was or what it was used for. Warmth flowed up Arthur’s neck and brushed against his cheeks. 

Now, this was just embarrassing. 

“Don’t even think of looking, _Mer_ lin,” Arthur ordered flatly after clearing his throat. 

_A little too late for that_ , Arthur’s mind thought. Arthur scolded the thought and quickly shredded the rest of his clothes and hopped in the bath. 

The streaming water was a pleasant change and an excellent cover from Merlin’s eyes. Even though Arthur doubted he’d have to deal with that second-hand embarrassment again judging from Merlin’s reaction. 

Arthur opened his eyes and glanced over at the dragon in question. 

The dragon was still turned in the opposite direction but hadn’t moved from his spot like he’d been glued to the floor by shame. 

Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed, sinking lower into the water. Merlin was an odd one, but then again he wasn’t exactly normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone, for reading! This is officially my most read book with over 1K hits and 200 kudos because of you guys! I'm so glad you all like the way I'm portraying the characters. Making this I was really worried that I was going to OOC on Arthur and Merlin, so that's why it's taking so long to make these chapters.  
> Speaking of chapters, they're going to start getting a little longer now as Merlin and Arthur's relationship progresses because we all know how well Arthur Pendragon is with feelings.  
> As always comments are amazing and kudos are great. Have a nice day/night!


	4. Are You Gaius?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin leaves Arthur in search of Gauis, the man he was sent to Camelot to find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *raises from the dead* I LIVE!!!  
> Sorry for taking so long everyone but let me just say Gauis is hard to write, like extremely hard to the point where he caused me some major writer's block. But I've recovered from it and I give you this poorly written chapter as a peace offering.

Merlin didn’t know what to expect when he was carried into Camelot and he most certainly didn’t expect for his savior to be the prince. 

He’d heard about the strict rules banning magic in Camelot, he wasn’t stupid, but he didn’t think the prince was an exception to the laws. With he wasn’t, Merlin soon came to understand after the prince in question became flustered and defensive at the servants coming in and out of his chambers throughout the morning. 

Merlin took a deep breath and sneezed as his nostrils became clogged with dust bunnies. He froze and looked over at the feet across the room. The brown boots stuffed closer to the bed and Merlin heard the sheets being shifted overhead before the boots wandered back to the other side of the room. 

Merlin let out the breath he was holding and silently cursed Arthur for pushing him under the bed last minute. He swore that clotpole had no brains. 

Merlin stretched his wings, testing them, and wretched as pain shot down his wings and spine. Arthur knew the basics of how to treat a wound but Merlin needed a real physician. The stab wound he’d gotten from those bandits needed to be stitched up before it could heal properly. If it wasn’t stitched soon he would probably never be able to fly again. Merlin shivered and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes at the thought.

When Merlin was on his way to Camelot he was supposed to meet with an old friend of his mother’s, who Merlin remembered was a physician. His mother had told him to go to the castle to meet him there which meant he most likely worked there, and he could help Merlin.

Mind made up, Merlin crawled to the edge of the bed and carefully watched the servant’s brown boots. He waited till they disappeared behind a curtain and Merlin made a break for it, darting across the floor and sliding behind Arthur’s cabinet, out of sight. The boots returned no more than a second later and Merlin had to wiggle against the wall to get to his next position, wounds burning from agitation. 

Merlin watched the servant walk towards the door and Merlin kept pace with him, darting in and out of sight until he was hidden behind a banner right next to the door. The servant opened the door then stopped, tilting his head like he forgot something, and went back into Arthur’s chambers. Merlin waited till the servant had his back fully turned before he ran out into the hallway.

The hallway floor was colder, Merlin noticed and he found himself wishing for Arthur’s thick cape. His muzzle filled with a billion different scents and Merlin picked up the dulled scent of Arthur along with two other scents he recognized from the night before. ‘ _ Guards _ ,’ he thought and lifted his head higher, dragging in as much air as he could with each breath.

Most of them were random people scents, some animal scents (horse mostly), and amongst them was the scent Merlin was looking for. The strong, bittersweet smell of ground herbs. 

Merlin followed the smell through the white corridors and down several flights of stairs. He was surprised that he only saw three different people in the corridors. He thought a castle would be busier but maybe there was some big event going on, like a festival or something he didn’t know about.  _ Then again, wouldn’t the castle be busier than? _

Merlin shook his head and focused back on the task at hand. 

The physician, Gaius, his mother had called him, knew Merlin was coming and he knew Merlin had magic. But Merlin didn’t know if Gaius knew just how powerful Merlin was. Merlin didn’t know very many people who welcomed magic with open arms and he didn’t want to pressure Gaius in any way since was one of the few who did. Having a small, injured warlock turned dragon showed up in your home would most definitely do exactly that.

A sharp stinging in his foreleg told him to quit overthinking and to get some painkillers. 

Merlin looked both ways down the corridor from behind his flowerpot and darted out, passing two doors before sliding into the room he’d been staring at for the last three minutes. 

His senses were immediately assaulted by the smell and sticky sensation of burning herbal mixtures and Merlin let out a furry of sneezes, his element of surprise evaporating. When he was finally able to get control of himself he looked up and came face to face with an old man staring down at him. 

“Gruu?” ‘ _ Gaius, _ ’ Merlin asked with his limited speech.

The man didn’t reply for a while, just staring at Merlin with wide eyes like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. After he got over his initial shock, he turned his head to his table to look at something Merlin couldn't see, and understanding flooded onto his face.

“Merlin?” He asked and Merlin nodded, hopping down the stairs towards Gaius.

The physician held out his hand and Merlin jumped on, trilling happily as his height increased. Merlin loved his dragon form but when he was this small it was just a hassle. 

“What are you doing here, Merlin?” Gaius asked and set Merlin down on the table. Merlin had to stop himself from sneezing again when he spotted the smoking bottle next to him. Curse his sensitive nose.

Merlin hated that he couldn’t answer Gaius’s questions but there was one thing he could communicate correctly. Merlin flapped his wings, ignoring the stinging, and squeaked out an ugly noise. 

Gaius’s face scrunched at the dragon-like screeching and spotted the blooding bandages. Seeing the bleeding wound, he easily fell into his routine, unwrapping Merlin’s wings gingerly so as not to irritate the wounds further. 

Gaius hissed in sympathy when he saw the state of Merlin’s wings and asked softly, “When did this happen?”

Merlin held up one finger to show it was one day ago and Gaius nodded in understanding. He asked several other questions about his injuries before grabbing out the needed medicine. “You should have taken better care of yourself, Merlin. You should have come to me the second you reached Camelot,” Gaius scolded lightly.

Merlin flinched at both Gaius’s words and the burn of the liquid he dumped onto his wing. He involuntarily hissed when the liquids touched and passed through the stab wound between his wing bones. 

Gaius nudged Merlin’s wing open and his eyebrows met in the middle, frowning at the wound. “What on Earth did you get into Merlin?”

Merlin hung his head in shame, “ _ Merg _ …” 

Gaius sighed. “Well, whatever happened, it’s in the past, but don’t think you’ll be getting out of an explanation. Once your magic has replenished we’re going to have a long talk.”

Merlin let out a squawk of protest and shrunk back when Gaius shot him the look. Great only just met the guy had he already had a look; Merlin could tell this was the start of a wonderful relationship. 

Merlin tried to relax and follow Gaius’s instructions as his practiced hands stitched and dressed the injuries. Gaius was more gentle with Merlin’s cuts than Arthur was and with the herbal healing agents paired with a pleasantly tasting painkiller, Merlin was almost positive he was going to be healed completely by the end of the week. 

Merlin happily thrilled as Gaius stepped back from his work, looking over one more time to make sure he didn’t miss anything. He’d been confused when Merlin had stumped into his home wrapped in ripped cloth and disinfected wounds. It was obvious Merlin hadn’t done it himself. If he had, he would have had to have been in human form and most likely would have had to stay in that form from his depleted magic. 

_ Bang _ “Gaius, I need your help. I-” 

Arthur cut himself off when he saw the scene in front of him. His eyes darted between the dragon and the court physician. “What is going on here,” he growled, glaring at Merlin. 

Merlin didn’t allow himself to shrunk away from Arthur’s threatening tone and instead sneered right back at the stuck up prince. His hanches raised at the challenge but he was cut off by Gauis stepping between them. 

“Sire I can explain! Merlin means no harm and he is no threat to Camelot,” Gaius rambled but Arthur didn’t appear to be listening. 

“I told you to stay put,” Arthur gritted out between his teeth as he looked over Gaius’s shoulder at Merlin, ignoring the physician altogether. His obvious disrespect for the man caused a low growl to emanate from Merlin’s chest, causing his full body to shake. 

Gaius turned to Merlin, surprised, and turned back to Arthur with the same expression. “You two know each other?”

Arthur stiffened realizing his mistake and cleared his throat, wiping off the angered expression. “I, um, found him in my room and was planning to um, deal with him later.”

“LIYY!” Merlin cried, outraged, flailing his wings out against the bandages and his tiny claws digging into the wood. 

How dare Arthur try and lie when Merlin was in the same room as him. 

How dare he disrespect Gaius by lying to him, Merlin trusted Gaius more than he trusted Arthur. Sure he may have saved Merlin and, yeah he treated him but he was the prince of Camelot. Merlin still didn’t know what his intentions were and he had to force himself to be cautious, no matter how much his instincts told him to trust Arthur.

Gaius shot a glance at Merlin silently saying  _ please-be-quiet _ and Merlin reluctantly stopped growling and stalked to the edge of the table, close enough so he could see Arthur himself and watch him. 

“Whatever the case might be sir, I think it would be best if I care for Merlin personally and I know it’s a lot to ask but please keep this a secret. I fear the worst for Merlin if Uther were to catch wind of him,” Gaius pleaded and Merlin’s gaze softened as he looked up at the kind man. 

Arthur shifted his weight from foot to foot and said, “No, I think it would be better if Merlin stayed with me. With Uther’s new searching protocols, your home is going to be searched more often and my room isn’t required to be searched.-” Arthur took a step away from the door and towards Merlin, “-And you are going to stay put this time aren’t you~?”

Oh yeah, he was.

Merlin sat down with a satisfying thud and smiled up at the prince's teeth and all. Merlin may still be in draconic form but he was still a person and no one as rude as Arthur was going to tell him what to do.

Arthur groaned and dragged a hand down his face, exhausted by Merlin’s antics. “Fine!” He shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. “If you don’t want my help then so be it! But because I’m a nice person I’ll keep your secret.-” The prince turned to Gaius, his voice lowering somewhat, “-Don’t let him out of your sights. I can’t speak for the majority of the castle but most people won’t look twice at Merlin before reporting him to Uther. Understand?”

Gaius nodded and bowed slightly, “You have my word.”

Arthur nodded and glanced over at Merlin with an emotion the smaller dragon couldn’t identify before he turned to walk out the door. He paused only a moment to throw a short “best of luck” over his shoulder before he all but fled the room. 

Merlin watched the doorway for a few moments after the telltale cape flicked around the corner, half expecting Arthur to run back in but the prince was long gone. 

Merlin began to trace a random pattern into the table as an awkward silence fell over him and Gaius. Finally, the physician sighed and said, “You should go with him, Merlin.”

Merlin squeaked out his disapproval, wings once again fighting at his bandages, and Gaius just waved him off. “The prince did have a point. My home has already been searched three times in the past week. You’ll have a better chance of not being found out in Arthur’s corridors, not to mention that look you two were giving each other,” Gaius said suggestively.

Merlin’s scales heated up and he hid his face in his claws in embarrassment, “Mmrww.” There was no denying that Arthur was attractive (very attractive) but no matter of looks could make up for his rudeness (that chiseled jaw and firm chest, gods how Merlin wanted to touch the hidden tanned skin that shown like gold in the candle light).

Gaius chuckled. “Well it seems like my hunch was correct. Now-” Gaius held out a hand to the blushing Merlin to climb on to, “-let’s go find your prince, young warlock.”


End file.
